


The Various Illegalities Of A Touring Dream Team

by playwithfire



Category: Badboyhalo, Dreamwastaken, GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, Sapnap - Fandom, dreamteam - Fandom, mcyt
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Drinking Games, Flirting, Multi, Music, Musicians, Party Games, Partying, Road Trip, also, if you stay to see what happens i will love you forever, perhaps a battle of the bands?, perhaps a bigshot music producer?, perhaps a contest?, shit goes wrong fast, they play them on stage too, they write songs isn't that cool, they're gonna meet some other musicians, uhhh, yo this is gonna be wild, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25820008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playwithfire/pseuds/playwithfire
Summary: Dream team, but they're in a band.They'll do worse things.Give it a chapter or two.You'll love it.
Relationships: You'll see - Relationship
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44
Collections: Dream Team Week 2020





	1. hey, come on, let's go!

Though they had hovered around each other since they were kids, the four of them had been tight since junior year. 

Students who had received their necessary art credits didn’t need to come back to their school's oddly fun band class after their first two years, and so those that remained were only those who truly loved music, and the process of making it. 

And the Dream Team _lived_ for music. 

Clay had been a choir singer his whole life, but found solace in soulful solos and vocal riffs. He could always pluck a tune on his trusty Yamaha, but overall preferred to sing his own melodies into existence. Armed with only a dollar store journal filled with scribbled lyrics as well as anything he could find to hide his face from certain overzealous fans, he could and would charm anyone lucky enough to hear him sing.

George, aside from being a techhead, was a killer guitar player; able to play any riff by ear and think up unique pieces with only the slightest hint of inspiration. His calloused fingers boasted years of experience, and he could play blind with only muscle memory on his side. He knew enough bass to get by, but preferred the creativity he could flex with his fingers flying over his electric guitar’s fretboard.

Nick was possibly the most talented of the bunch- proficient in bass and drumming, and quite skilled at backing vocals and acoustic guitar. He had a keen ear for rhythm, and could often be found with George, their heads bent over a GarageBand beat he had crafted in a corner of the library. Nick was a jack of all trades, yet often chose to stick to his drumsticks and Mac.

And of course there was Darryl, their unofficial member. He would always be a classical piano player at heart, but could also play a mean riff on both the keys and the electric bass. 

They even thought up monikers for themselves. Onstage, Clay became Dream, and seduced his audience with his sultry tenor. George’s stage name was GeorgeNotFound, mostly inspired by the “ _page not found”_ page his computer was stuck on while they were brainstorming- though their fans were sure it was because of his secretive nature and ability to blend into any crowd. Nick was Sapnap, which was simply a variation of an old childhood nickname Pandas. Darryl was BadBoyHalo, an adaption of his video game username and a play on his joyful and kind personality.

Together, they sold out concerts played on their school’s cafeteria stage; and by the end of 11th grade, their small tourist town’s outdoor auditorium. 

But you’re not here for their successes, or their backstory.  
  
You’re here for what went wrong. 

  
  


And let me tell you, there’s a lot of that.

It just starts earlier than you’d expect.

  
-  
  


Now as soon as high school ended, they knew they wanted to tour a couple of their surrounding states. 

And it wasn’t a bad idea: they were beloved by nearly all of their small town’s residents- especially the teens, since concerts gave them an excuse to hang with friends. The band had folder upon folder of chord sheets for different genres- kids’ birthday, bachelor(ette) revels, oldies covers; they’d put a ton of work into making themselves marketable to any potential customers.

These gigs earned them a far amount of money; so travelling for a couple months wasn’t too insane of an idea.  
  


And so they mutually decided to take a gap year before college. For the first six months, they’d save up as much as they could while working part-time jobs and playing a couple gigs. For three months after that, they’d travel the country and spread their music as far as it would take them. 

And for what came after, well, they’d make up as they go.

  
  


Which leads us to

 **One:** George so lost in a daydream about his soon-to-come freedom that he accidentally short-changed a group of teen girls at the local supermarket. 

To his credit, when he realized, he yelled for them to wait and started to walk after their group. But it was only a dollar or two, and they were already far gone, so he just placed them into the register. His manager didn’t mind when he confessed to her- he was a star employee, after all. He just left out the bit about him palming the bills at the end of his shift.

He told the band the next weekend on Nick’s lunch break, and they all shared a good laugh over fries and milkshakes. 

**Two:** Nick pocketing a couple more bucks from his ice cream shop’s tip jar in September. It didn’t really matter, honestly. The other kid working with him was always pretty out of it, and the owners rarely popped in. As the best employee of the shop, he’d earned the extra couple bucks. Right?

He didn’t say a word to the others- he still felt a bit scummy about it, but it probably wasn’t any biggie. Definitely didn’t warrant this overthinking. 

**Three:** Clay taking a money envelope meant for a cousin. It wasn’t his fault his great uncle was senile, or that Clay looked almost startingly like the older kid despite the two year age difference. Plus, it was only forty bucks. He could probably give him a really good birthday present in secret apology- but right now, he needed the money.

  
  


By early January, they had saved quite a lot each. 

George made a spreadsheet, complete with the amount of money they were expected to spend on things such as gas and meals, as well as a couple of the best (be picked up by a famous music producer on their first tour and have the rest of their tour be expense-free) to worst (beat up and mugged in an alleyway while their van and equipment was stolen) scenarios and ways they could spring back. 

A bit thorough, yeah, but necessary for how long they were going to be away. _(Necessary for the multitude of problems bound to arise as soon as they left home, George was certain of it. He knew firsthand how hard worrying about a lack of funding was- what happened when they really ran out? He faked a couple documents, on the off chance the situation arose and they needed them.)_

Nick was the one to call the venues to ensure there were spots open for them to play. He managed to book an impressive amount of gigs, given they were a relatively small band. He joked to the band that the owners of these faraway locations could never resist his charm. _(He didn’t quite mention the slightly unfavourable wages they’d be paid in return, but oh well. Anything to get their name out there.)_

As soon as the holidays were over, they borrowed one of Darryl’s dad’s vans in return for a live show to advertise his car dealership. 

They strapped a pop up tent and sleeping bags to the top and took the vehicle for a spin (just to make sure the stuff didn’t fall off).

Once that was done, they packed a duffle of clothes each, as well as extra cables, strings, an unfortunate amount of processed snacks, and other such necessities. They stuffed their instruments into the back, along with hard drives of poster and t-shirt designs. They plastered the inside with posters and stuck a calendar to the ceiling, decorated with dates circled in red marker and graffitied with smilies.

_(Darryl didn’t bring up being worried about the capacities of the van. He could only convince his father to lend them a secondhand vehicle, and he had no idea what had been tampered with to make it run smoother or look newer. Hopefully nothing too important.)_

Clay paid for the tent. And the spare instrument parts. He was also designated driver, as a result of his tendency to focus on one task and stay concentrated until it was finished. 

_(But this time, he was worried. He could feel something just waiting to go wrong, and he was terrified of what that thing was or what it would do to them. So, unbeknownst to the rest of them, he converted a couple hundred dollars into cash and stuffed them into ziplocs. He divvied them between his guitar case, songwriting journal, wallet, spare wallet, and clothes pockets. Just in case.)_

  
  
  


And so they were off. 

  
With excitement bubbling from their lips and fear brewing in their stomachs; with catchy pop song lyrics and secrets caught in their throats. 

The group of four young men became the Dream Team for three glorious months, almost too short a time to revel in the royalty of youth. 

It will take more than one thing to break them.

But when they break, they _shatter._


	2. Seconds From Wildin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing... DIALOGUE! Yep, these characters have voices and they're not afraid to use em. (They would hardly be a quality band if they didn't; nor would it be an easier story to tell haha)
> 
> Enjoy this member's chapter while it lasts! We'll be switching to someone new next week, so stick around to see who :))

_Sunrise_

_Blue skies_

_It’s time_

  
  


The display read 6:20 AM. Distortions of electric guitar played quietly from the front speakers, and George reached for his phone to turn it up slightly when a voice from the backseat spoke up. 

“Dude, I’m fucking starving.” Sapnap whined from behind him. “We can’t already have run out of food.”

George sighed over Bad’s sleepy yet indignant “Language!”, staring out the windshield at the endless highway. “We’ve got chips and instant noodles in the back. Just relax, I have an idea for breakfast.”   
He reached for his backpack and retrieved the binder, where the spreadsheet resided along with maps, names of safe places, contacts of trusted people, and… other helpful things.

“As long as it isn’t as bad of an idea as setting that goddamn iPhone alarm to play from the van’s Bluetooth every time we swapped who would keep watch and who would sleep, I’m down.” Dream was deadfaced in the driver’s seat, still concentrating even through his bloodshot eyes.   
He gripped his hands against the steering wheel to keep them from shaking, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to last a third night of awful, paranoid sleep.

George glanced up at him from where he was flipping through the pages.   
“I said I was sorry,” he mumbled softly before continuing in a louder voice so the boys in the back could hear.  
“There’s a hotel near here, and they’ve got continental breakfast.” He jabbed his finger at a dot on a map. "We could sneak in, grab a couple plates, maybe smuggle out some fruits if we can manage.”

The discussion of food theft sobered Bad, and he sat up from his window pillow. “But that’s illegal! Couldn’t we get arrested for this? I don’t want to go home after only three days of driving.”

The others winced, and Dream paused before nodding. “We’re in a different state now. The laws are different, and so are the offenses. None of us can afford to get busted.” 

“Yeah! Who’s gonna take care of Rat if I don’t get home okay? I don’t-”

“I’ve done my research, and it’s all fine. As long as we’re in before 7 we should be go-” 

“Not to be crass, but fuck your research. What did you do, go on Reddit? Does wittwe baby Gogy need a lesson on how you can’t trust everyone on the internet?”

“LANGUAG-”

“The hell are you talking about? You use it for singing and such all the time, so shut up about unworthy sources, you-”

  
  
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a pretty big difference between discussing vocal tips and scrolling through year-old threads about LITERAL CRIM-”

  
  


“Stop.”

Sapnap’s unusually cool voice cut through the argument, and reflexively Dream came screeching to a halt in front of a red light. 

“Dar- er, Bad, you know that Rat’s going to be okay no matter what. You’ve got family to take care of her, and I’m sure that Zak kid you always text would help bail you out.

Dream, I get that you’re tired. I don’t mind driving for today and letting you get some rest before tomorrow’s gig. But you don’t have to be so aggressive to George. I trust him, and he’s done so much prep for us. Besides, those hotels always make more food than taken- I’m sure they won’t mind us popping in for a bagel.

George, just to get this straight, what’s the worst that could happen?”

He took a deep breath and looked over their faces, hoping they didn’t hate him after his interruption.   
  


Bad was unusually blank, though he smiled sort of strainedly when he noticed he was being observed.

Dream looked slightly guilty in the rearview mirror, while gratefulness was written all over George’s turned face. 

“I, uhm. They… they throw us out, that’s it.” 

  
  


Sapnap clapped his hands and grinned. “Great! Then let’s get going. George, lead the way with that sexy accent of yours.” He winked at him in the side mirror, and the three of them laughed. 

(They didn’t notice how their driver tensed up.)

“Okay, so. You make a U-turn here…”  
  


  
  
  


**Four** : They snuck into the hotel one by one. 

George entered through the front door first, with his binder clutched in his hand to hide the design on his graphic tee- he wanted to look professional, after all. Sapnap entered from the hotel’s left wing’s entrance with a hooded Dream, and sat across from him. Bad came in from the right and took a seat beside George, and together they ate a full breakfast.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and people from all walks of life filed in to share a meal. It was quite peaceful, and George felt a tinge of regret at the fact that this moment would forever drift in the past of his mind.

The group ended up back in the car with two bananas, four pre-packaged fruit salads, a pear, and seven muffins. 

  
  


Bad could only grin as he shrugged helplessly and offered them up.

  
  


-

  
  


Like the two previous nights, they slept in the van. 

Unlike the previous nights, they slept in the parking lot of a McDonald’s, with their destination a mere 10 miles away. 

When the morning came, they took turns changing and cleaning themselves up with baby wipes. They walked around the town in fresh clothes to get a feel for the place, putting up a poster for their performance by every busy corner. 

  
  


“You guys ready for this?”

“You’re such an idiot, George.”

The boy in question shot Dream a grin before cupping his hands over his mouth and yelling into the air.

_“COME SEE THE DREAM TEAM TONIGHT AT THE BOWL CUT AT NINE!!”_

  
  


Above them, a window washer wobbled against the apartment he was working on, and a fit of giggles overcame the group. Dream and George ran ahead, speed seemingly granted by the lightness in their hearts.

Sapnap, on the other hand, slowed to a halt, his sides beginning to ache.

By the time he was done laughing himself into a stupor, though, he could see that Bad didn’t find the whole thing as funny. He watched as the hooded boy checked his phone and put it away just as quickly, the troubled expression he wore staining his face.

  
  


“Hey man, you doing alright?” Sapnap asked, walking up to his side. 

Bad shrugged. “N… not really. I don’t know. It’s nothing.”

He sped up, hands deep in his sweater pockets. Sapnap was only half a step behind.

“It’s obvious something’s up. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. But like, just know that we can chat whenever, kay? You’re my friend, and I care about you a ton, and uh. Yeah.”

  
  


Sapnap didn’t expect to be tackled, and he steeled himself for the impact when their bodies collided.

He definitely didn’t expect the hug.

  
  


“...I needed that. Thanks, Nick. I’ll, hah, definitely be taking you up on that soon enough.”

“Of course dude! You’re always there to listen to us, and I’m sorry I haven’t been checking up on you as much as I should’ve.” said Sapnap as he returned the hug.

“Awh, it’s no biggie. Like you said, I’m like the group therapist. And besides, I’m kinda used to it.”

Sapnap opened his mouth- maybe to apologize for not paying him enough attention (official member of the band or not, he was their friend), maybe to ask about Zak- but settled instead for a weak ”Yeah, um, don’t forget Dream asked us to go by our monikers for this trip. Y’know, to forget our ‘real world hometown’ selves for a while?” before releasing the other boy somewhat.

  
  


The pair stayed silent for the rest of the walk, but he kept his arm around his shoulders until they reached the others.

And Bad, wishing this comfort could last forever, leaned into him.

  
  


-

  
  


After a hearty lunch of poutine bought from a chip truck (made even heartier having successfully convinced the girl running it to let them tape a poster for their future performances beside the window), a sound check at the Bowl Cut Bar, and an hour or three of goofing around near a heavily-graffitied bridge, a stroke of genius occurred to Bad.

“Hey, hey guys. You know how we have the tent and sleeping bags and everything?”

“...yeah?” came the trio of replies.

“We should totally go camping somewhere! George can find somewhere with showers, and near a beach, and we could watch the stars and stuff! Don’t you think that’d be fun?” 

  
  


The rest of them looked at each other and shrugged. 

“I mean, I’m sure I could book somewhere for a night or two from a library if you guys are up for it.” proposed George, already unzipping his baclpack. 

  
  


Dream and Sapnap nodded their agreement, and Bad grinned. 

-

They stayed at the public library until 7; with George booking a campsite for two nights (“This place is a bit shitty, but that’s what we get for booking such short notice”), Dream flipping through a couple of the town’s local newspapers (“How the hell is their comic artist so good??”), Bad looking at the old kid’s books he’d read (“I used to LOVE Round Trip, I had such good taste!”), and Sapnap taking advantage of the free wifi to dig up certain little tidbits of information.  
  


  
Once they had eaten dinner and completed their sound check, they began to get ready to play. 

While sitting at the bar, Sapnap scanned the crowd of increasingly buzzed patrons, watched as Dream (wearing a comically large pair of sunglasses) and George talked to the servers, then looked to his remaining bandmate with butterflies in his stomach. “I seriously can’t believe we’re actually doing this. I swear, I feel like I’m dreaming right now.”

Bad had a nervous smile on, and was tapping his foot against the chair beside his rapidly. “We’re really here, in a bar in a town where we don’t know anyone! I’m just so excited and nervous and really, _really_ hoping we don’t mess this up.”

“Nah man, we’ll do great. Just don’t freak out too much and like, vibe to the music we’re playing!” 

“Vibe. Yeah. Got it.” He held up his fist and Sapnap bumped it before jumping off the seat as the manager beckoned them on stage.

_Showtime._

_-_

After the first bout of nerves, the Dream Team shone. The somewhat cozy air of the building led to a very intimate feel, something they weren’t totally used to but embraced after a couple songs. 

The house lights were hot, and the tight-knit audience cheered them on, and they sang and played and vibed for sixty _fantastic_ minutes. 

  
  
  


Then came the break. 

Sapnap was chatting up one of the younger bartenders when a stout, balding man gestured him over. He felt a cold hand grip some internal organ of his or another as he turned to her. “Excuse me, uh-”

“Sylvee.” She said with a smile. “You?”

“Sapnap’s great. Could you give me a sec?”

“Yeah of course, sorry to keep you!” She followed his gaze and swore before leaning in to whisper in his ear, her easy grin replaced with a grimace. “That’s my dad’s friend Mark. He co-owns the place. Be careful, he’s kind of an asshole.” 

“Thanks for the warning, Syl.” He said, already walking towards him. “Evening, sir! How’d you like our act so far?”

  
  


Mark’s voice was raspy and sharp, almost reminiscent of a rusty knife. “You’re Nick, correct?”

The name was sobering, and Nick’s smile faded. “That I am, mister. Is there something you-” 

“I seem to remember us discussing your band a couple months back. You said you did covers, and I’ve pretty damn sure I’ve never heard a song you played in my life.”

He winced as he remembered that this was the first location he had spoken to months ago- and also the one where he only mentioned the covers they played for parties.   
“Hoooo my goodness, I am so sorry sir. I can tell the guys, and we can do some songs we’ve done a ton of times before. We’ve got a bunch of oldies songs, and some newer ones too, and we could help clear the floor and play a couple dance songs for our last set-” 

Mark rolled his eyes, motioned for him to shut up, and pulled out a white envelope with a wad of cash. He counted out four bills and showed them to him. “Eighty bucks. Tonight’s payment.” 

“But we agreed for double that!” Nick moved for them, only for the cash to be retracted. 

“And you fucked up your end of our deal.” Mark shoved it back in the envelope, and put it back in his pocket. “See me in two hours for your payment. Or you could leave now, I don’t give a shit.”

  
  
  


Shaking his head, he stormed back to his seat behind his drums, his face heating from anger. 

“What’s wrong?” came Bad’s voice, concern evident in his tone. George and Dream looked up from their conversation, their smirks giving way to confused expressions. 

Sapnap shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”  
None of them bought it, and he sighed and continued. “Mark- the owner- said we had to play covers for the last two sets or he won’t pay. He also said he’d only be giving us eig- a hundred bucks for this.” 

  
Their frontman was first to overcome the band’s shock. “What the fuck?! That’s nothing! And you guys talked about terms and stuff a couple months back, didn’t you? Why are we only getting told we have to play something completely different now??”

He stood up, glaring daggers at the back of Mark’s sweaty head, but George caught his wrist and shook his head. “It’s not worth it. And a hundred’s better than nothing any day.”

Dream let his shoulders fall, but shook his head. “I’m not giving this asshole another minute of our time. Let’s pack up, go straight to the campsite, maybe tell a couple people here where we’re gonna be next.”

  
No one argued, and so they did. Dream went to grab the van as the rest of them packed up their instruments, cables, and speakers. George said bye to the servers while Sapnap and Bad chatted with some customers, a couple of whom said they’d check the band out online. 

  
  
  


They were filling up the trunk on the street outside when Sapnap remembered Sylvee. “Yo, guys, give me a sec? I’ll be back in a few.”

He ran back inside and speedwalked toward her as suavely as he could, and she snorted when she saw him. “And here I thought you’d leave without saying bye. Heard Mark got on your nerves.”

Sapnap shrugged before making a quick decision in his head and deciding to lay it on thicker. “Yeah well, least I got to meet you. You’re probably the best part about this town, aside from that fry place, because holy shit that was good.”

She laughed at that before retrieving a folded up napkin from below the counter and handing it to him. “I love that truck. You mind sending me your band’s socials? You guys were honestly really grea-”

  
  
  


There was a CRASH from behind him, and they turned to see Mark scrapping with another guy on the ground, with a woman tugging on their shoulders screaming for them to stop. Sylvee rolled her eyes and muttered something about him flirting with another taken girl, but Sapnap approached the crowd, an idea forming in his head.

  
  
  


**Five:** The two men were going ham, not caring about their surroundings. 

Sapnap used his foot to slide the fallen white envelope towards himself before picking it up and fading to the back of the crowd.

He counted out a couple fifties, pocketed them, and tossed the envelope back in the mix- where blood was beginning to be shed. 

  
  


“What d-”

“I have to go, but here.” He passed Sylvee two bills before backing up towards the door. “Enjoy the tip, go buy yourself a drink at a better bar or something nice, and have a nice night!” 

She yelled “Can't buy drinks yet but thanks!” after him as he ran out the door and hurled himself into the van. 

The napkin with her number was heavy in his pocket, but didn’t compare to the $200- neither of which his friends knew to ask him about as they drove off. 

  
  


-

  
  


“We shouldn’t be here, guys.” 

Bad was pacing the shore of the beach nervously, stepping away from the waves as they rose and fell. 

  
  


Dream, George, and Sapnap were lounging on a mat they had brought, each soaking up the salty ocean air. 

“Come on, dude, live a little! I mean, when else are you going to be able to sneak onto a beach past hours? There’s literally no one here!” 

“Seconded. The stairs leading down here, however rickety they may be, are _really_ close to our campsite, so we can go up whenever. And the stars are so clear, there’s no light pollution in sight! Look, you can see Cassiopeia, and the Big Dipper, and the North Star-”

“You’re such a nerd, George. Here, just come and sit.” Sapnap patted the empty spot beside him, and Bad grumbled before joining them. 

  
They sat in blissful, dark silence before Dream sat up. “What are we doing on the sand? We literally have this whole ocean to ourselves, let’s go swimming!” He stood up, stripped rapidly, and ran into the water in his boxers; splashing George when he entered more gingerly. Their shrieks of laughter carried down the horizon.

  
“I’ll stay here with the stuff.” said Bad, watching the pair with a distant look on his face. 

At that, Sapnap slowed the tedious process of kicking his jeans off. “Why, what’s up?”

“Uh. There could be bears that take our stuff. Also I can’t swim.” 

He shook his head, tucking his socks into his boots and pushing them away from the water. “We literally took swimming lessons together as kids, dude. And wouldn’t it be better to be farther away from the bears with the rest of us?” 

Bad shrugged and checked his phone. The light was blinding, and he looked ghoulish in the glow- and suddenly Sapnap knew exactly what was wrong. 

  
  


“Dude, he isn’t worth it.” he said, sitting down beside him. “You shouldn’t miss out on hanging out with your friends for someone who doesn’t even reply to your texts.” 

Bad's eyebrows furrowed, then raised in recognition, and it was as if a switch had been flipped. He dropped his phone and let his long-suppressed tears well, and Sapnap, feeling guilty already, pulled him into a tight hug.

“I d-don’t know what I did wrong. We’ve been talking for _years_ and these past few months were the first time I’ve ever been so aware of the distance between us. It’s like he’s just… cold? And I know it sounds selfish and everything but it’s never been like this before and I just d-d-don’t know what to do.”

Sapnap nodded into his shoulder, patting his back. “It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

“We still talk often, usually at night and stuff, but I don’t know. I want to c-call him my... one of my best friends, but I don’t even know if he feels remotely the same. It’s just so confusing, because he’ll be the nicest person but then just not talk to me for what feels like ages? And I know it’s only a day or two, and I’m scared I’m being clingy and he secretly just hates me and is too nice to break it off and-” 

“Hey, hey, no one could ever hate you.” Sapnap pulled back and placed his hands on the other boy’s shoulders firmly, looking him in the eyes. “You’re the kindest person I know, and you’re one of the reasons why I got through high school. I’m sure he’s just busy in college, because it’s a whole new ball game over there.”

He shrugged, eyes glistening in the starlight with tears. “I… ugh. I keep asking myself, ‘Darryl, should I let this… should I let him go?’ And I keep debating in my head- I even made a list of pros and cons on the back of one of my chord sheets!” He smiled weakly before sighing. “It’s just so weird to even think about him not being a part of my life after knowing each other for forever.”

“Then you don’t have to think about it.”

“What do you mean by that?”  
  


Sapnap scooted over and sat beside him. “We can just leave all that behind us, for now. Keep our minds on the road, and our music, and worry about everything else later.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“No, I’m serious! So far, during this trip, I’ve kind of separated Nick and Sapnap. I’ve been solely my stage name, and it’s honestly been really freeing.”

“So you’re saying I should leave my entire identity behind?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. More like, abandon your worries and become the person you’ve always been a bit afraid to become. Like Sapnap isn’t afraid of rejection or messing up- he’s all brash and confident. And BadBoyHalo doesn’t have to stress over people hundreds of miles away- he can just loosen up and set up like a meeting during this trip! You guys can talk in person.”

Darryl nodded along, as if the words he said were put to music. “That sounds… okay. Yeah. I’ll text him about meeting up in the morning, but I’ll just leave my phone off for now.”

“Ayee! See, you’re a natural at this! So, you coming in the water or not?”

"Yeah, sure. Definitely." BadBoyHalo stood up, shrugging off his sweater. "Thanks, Sapnap. That honestly helped me out a bunch.”

“No problem, man! Talk to me any time, my ears are always open.” Sapnap squinted his eyes, trying to wiggle his ears for comedic effect. 

  
  


It didn’t work, but his friend still laughed as they walked barefoot into the water.

  
  


They joined Dream and GeorgeNotFound, still splashing each other, and waded through the waves, always making sure they were in earshot of the rest. They sang acapella to their favourite songs like a boy band of mythological sirens, and swam through the depths even when they were chilled to the marrow.

  
  
  
George considered gathering the group and telling them about the _other_ thing he had reserved them a spot for, but he figured he could tell them about March's Battle Of The Bands tomorrow over breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're as excited for next chapter's cameos as I am!
> 
> Jack-of-all-trades solo artists are a given, but who knows how they'll be grouped up? It is, of course, a contest for BANDS. Duos may or may not count, but you'll get to see how it happens the same way our main characters do ;)
> 
> Comments are my splash potion of speed. My Popeye's Spinach. My motivation multiplier. I have no more references SO  
> Talk about a song that fits the band/the situation! Ask me questions and get teasers for what happens next! Tell us about the time you did something mildly illegal! If you validate my existence in any way, I'll appreciate you forever :)  
> Checking my email is like a drug haha
> 
> Anyway! Sorry this took forever, hope this length and next update's service makes it up to y'all  
> See you in a week, possibly even less, and thanks for making it this far :D
> 
> Don't forget to drink water and laugh a lot and live a little but LIVE SAFELY. Don't do super dumb shit unless you're absolutely sure you and the people around you are going to be okay :)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and interactions keep me going y'all. Got anything at all to say? Like the fic so far? Hated it?  
> Have any song recommendations for a possible playlist? (that would honestly be so sick yoo) 
> 
> The more my existence is validated, the faster I'll get the next chapter out ;)
> 
> also I'll 100% be doing art for this because guys,, I'm a sucker for a band boy.


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